


Connections

by finereluctance



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Greg has FBI clearance, Greg knows all the cool lab techs, Greg-centric, M/M, crossover series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 05:06:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2569223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finereluctance/pseuds/finereluctance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg runs into a familiar face in the Las Vegas lab. Episode Tag: S08E06 (crossover with Without A Trace)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Connections

***

FBI. Those are the last three letters a CSI or lab tech wants to hear from dispatch. It means wasted time at a scene. Wasted time analyzing samples. Frustration with the jurisdiction politics. It usually includes someone who thinks they’re better than the LVPD Crime Lab coming in and trying to make them feel inferior.

Greg hated that feeling. He hated the arrogance that special agents walked around with, looking down on the lab techs who got them the evidence to make connections and solve their cases. Squints, they called the techs. Greg remembered the day he left the New York FBI lab with memories fonder than the entire time he spent in the city. Good riddance. 

Las Vegas was a breath of fresh air after the stifling basement lab he’d had in an old New York warehouse building. The upper levels had been renovated and made for nice offices and conference rooms for the agents, but the lab was another story. Poor ventilation, the smell of old chemicals heavy in the air, it was no wonder the agents always expected him to come up to hand deliver the results. He couldn’t blame them for not wanting to go down to the lab, not with the headaches he would go home with after a double shift.

It had been a good job, but it wasn’t the right fit for a long-term position. Not when Greg was twenty-three and still loved to color his hair and wear wild shirts to work. He lasted a year, a long, exhausting year while he struggled at work and in a bad relationship. Greg wanted it to work out, he tried the best he could to make it last, but there was no way he could do it on his own; not when his boyfriend wasn’t willing to meet him halfway, and not with the way people treated him in the lab. 

Then a position opened up in Las Vegas and Greg took the opportunity. He reached out, crossed his fingers, and hoped for the best. A bad relationship was left behind in that hole of a lab, and Greg found himself in a whole new world. He could be himself, listen to his music and wear the shirts he chose, the CSIs and even some of the cops respected him enough to put up with his babbling, and it was easy to slide into the promotion to DNA Supervisor. There was time to have an active social life, he had decent working relationships, and more than anything, he was happy. Life was good in Las Vegas.

Then Nick came around with his drawl and flirted with the DNA tech, and Greg’s life was turned on its head. They fell into a weird friends-with-benefits situation for a few years, but after all the shit with Nick’s stalker and the explosion in the lab, it made them both realize that they weren’t getting any younger and the pretending was just unnecessary. Nick was everything Greg wanted in his personal life and he was more than happy to settle down with the older CSI.

It was the team as a whole, though, that drew Greg out of the lab. He watched the camaraderie, the friendships and trust that being in the field built, and after the explosion he realized that his safe place in the lab was no safer than being in the field. He wanted to do more than just sort DNA samples all day and night. He was good at it, and after the years he spent interning in the Los Angeles FBI Forensics lab, the New York field office, and handling the heavy caseload in Las Vegas, he had developed a reputation as one of the best in the country, but it wasn’t enough. He was curious about the field, he wanted to get out and see the bigger puzzle of a case rather than just the bits and pieces that came across his desk.

His thirtieth birthday and a few years in the field dampened what Catherine liked to call his ‘youthful exuberance’, but he was confident in his own abilities in the field now. However, he still substituted in on the DNA rotation when other techs took vacations or sick days, or on big cases when there were too many samples for Wendy to handle on her own. He still answered the phone when Sunny or Jenna called from LA with a sample they needed his magic hands to analyze. He still took quick trips to Quantico or New Orleans when there was a stubborn DNA sample that didn’t want to be analyzed. The DNA tech community had a small group of elite analysts, and even after three years out of the lab he was still on speed-dial for most labs in the country.

Still, none of that prepared him to see Jack Malone walk into his crime scene. Greg froze when he recognized the senior FBI agent from New York, shocked to see a face he’d worked with in the past now taking over his case.

“You -- You get enough photos?” Jack asked, doing a double take when he noticed Greg’s presence. He wondered briefly if Jack even recognized him, but with the mentality that the lab techs were less than people in New York he doubted it. Especially since he’d changed so much in the nine years he’d spent in Vegas.

“Definitely,” Greg nodded and stepped back, waiting for Jack to pass him before he escaped outside. He didn’t want to be in there for the FBI vs CSI pissing match that was bound to happen when Grissom confronted Jack about taking over the case. He planned to stay as far away from that as possible.

***

“Hey, Greggo.” Nick looked up from where he’d been taking photos of the exterior of the house. “You alright, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Greg sighed and leaned against the side of the house next to his boyfriend. “FBI finally got here. Just my luck it’s my old boss.”

The older CSI grimaced and stood up to put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it too much… with any luck we can just hand this one off and let him deal with it. If we have to deal with the joint-jurisdiction shit, then you know Catherine and Grissom will take lead on it so you don’t have to be around him.”

He nodded and leaned into the familiar touch. It was as affectionate as they allowed themselves to be while on the clock, but it did the trick and Greg found himself relaxing almost immediately. “Thanks, Nicky.”

“Besides,” Nick grinned. “You’ve gotten pretty good at handling Hodges’ personality quirks lately, so it’s basically the same bull shit, isn’t it?”

That made Greg laugh, and he was even more thankful that he was allowed to work with his boyfriend because Nick always knew how to pull him out of a slump. “Don’t let him hear you compare him to an FBI agent, it’ll just feed his over-sized ego.”

***

The case ended up being theirs to process and investigate, with Jack overseeing the investigation with Brass and Grissom. Greg was fine with the arrangement because it meant he didn’t have to deal with Jack, except when he did.

He was processing the kitchen, going through the victim’s wallet and dusting for prints when Catherine and Jack walked in. Greg tried not to pay them any mind, but Catherine wasn’t going to let it slide.

“Bring us up to speed, Greg.” There was no getting out of the forced interaction now.

“Okay, sure. Um…” Greg looked around at what he’d already processed and rattled off the few facts they knew at the moment, which seemed like enough information to start them on a string of theories he didn’t really listen to. He already suspected this was a case that would end with him in the DNA lab with Wendy, so he just focused on processing his part of the apartment.

Catherine left without him noticing, but it was quickly obvious that Jack had stayed behind. “Looks like you’re doing good work here, Sanders.”

Greg looked up, startled. “Thanks… to be honest, I wasn’t sure you remembered me.”

“We lost one of the best techs that ever came through New York when you left,” Jack shrugged. “You look happier here, though, so I can’t blame you.”

Greg smiled faintly. It was nice to know people noticed when he left, even if he wasn’t overly fond of any of the people in New York. “Let me know if you need anything while you’re here, okay?”

“Thanks, Sanders.” The agent made a hasty retreat from the kitchen after that, clearly still as allergic to small talk as he was in the past.

Greg chuckled to himself when he was alone again, his head shaking before he returned to his work.

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably turn into a series of one-shot crossovers.


End file.
